


Another Kind

by sarahxsmile



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wincestiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 09:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahxsmile/pseuds/sarahxsmile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's died and come back again, but he feels different this time. A little bit stream of consciousness writing style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Kind

He's laughing like there's blood in his mouth, fitting between the cracks in his teeth and through his gums, and he can feel them staring because he doesn't laugh like this. Laugh like the end of the world was the best joke he'd ever heard. Good fucking one, guys, now let's get back to our real lives why don't we?

Sammy's watching him cautiously and Cas is too. At least, more than usual. Like they're not sure what to do with him. And Dean just shakes his head at them, grin still splitting his face wide open, so wide it hurts.

Hey guys c'mon we're fine, Dean says with his arms spread wide. We've saved each other again.

Dean. Sam's voice is a warning like it almost always always is. Dean wants to roll his eyes and he does and then he feels dizzy and almost eats dirt. Cas catches him though and that makes him smile too. But their voices are getting all fuzzy. At least, he thinks they are. Are they still talking?

We should take him somewhere, he thinks he hears. And, I don't know, and please please please. And his name, DeanDeanDean. 

He reaches, already touching Cas but he wants to touch Sam too. Sam, his Sammy. Needs to be connected like he always is. Was. Wishes they could have been.

Dean, you died, Sam says gently and Dean blinks, watching the way the fabric curls under his fingers. Folds a certain way like the thick fabric always does. And then he laughs again.

Not the first time, he says, all easy tone and Cas and Sam look at each other before looking back to him. It makes Dean roll his eyes again.

That was a bad idea and he feels himself tipping, pitching forward headfirst, but they don't let him fall.

Shit, he says, chuckling. He can feel Cas and Sam exchanging looks and then looking at him again. Or maybe he sees it. He pulls Sam closer and buries his face in Sam's chest, just to smell him.

He doesn't know when he passes out, but he dreams vaguely of good smells and warm hands and the soft rumbling and bouncing of the Impala that he knows so well. He doesn't know he's dreaming until he wakes up on an old bed in an old motel with a younger brother and an angel who looks young but is also really really old.

Dean thinks his life is funny.

Cas steps closer to the bed when he sees Dean is awake. Sam's already sitting on it and Dean groans and stretches.

What happened? he asks. He's more in his head now, he thinks, even if everthing is fuzzy funny around the edges. Even if it feels like he doesn't really make sense in his skin.

We already told you, Sam says carefully, and Dean doesn't like the way he's picking around his words. As though the wrong ones would burst a bubble, and they would disappear into nothing. You died.

Dean frowns at this. He's died before. He's died a lot.

I feel different, he says. There's something in his chest that there wasn't before. It's big and open, like a hole. But he thinks he can fill it if he finds the right thing. He just doesn't know what it is.

Cas and Sam nod, their eyes trained on him. Dean thinks maybe he should be annoyed by this but he's not, not really. He kind of likes that he's got all of their attention.

You're acting strangely, Cas says, and that's the first time Dean's solidly heard his voice and it makes him grin.

Oops, he says and flops back down on the bed. It's warm, comfortable, he feels like he could fall asleep again. You guys should check out this bed, he says, It's fucking awesome.

He best they exchange glances again and he huffs a sigh, turning his head to watch Sam. And Cas. They're next to each other, and he likes that he can see both of them. He's not sure he really wants them to ever be out of his sight again.

Not that he's ever liked it when they were.

Sam has a look on his face like he wants to research something, eyebrows wrinkled together and lips pursed a bit. But Dean's pretty sure no one's died as much as he has, so there probably isn't anything to find. He likes being one of a kind.

You are, Cas says, and Dean realizes he's spoken out loud. He laughs and nods because he is, he really really is. 

We all are, he declares and they nod because he's right. He reaches out after a moment, wraps his fingers around Sam's wrist. He makes a noise because that hole that was in him isn't so big anymore. He grins and tugs, pulling Sam closer.

What are you doing, Dean? Sam asks, and he's got his concerned voice turned on. Dean just shakes his head and pauses a moment before reaching for Cas, managing to hook their fingertips together. The hole feels smaller still and he laughs again.

He should have known.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this in the works for a while, but I'd pick it up and leave it off. Um, I hope the ending isn't too lame and that it makes sense overall, and that you enjoyed!


End file.
